Drowning Puzzle Pieces
by The 0dd 0ne
Summary: The icy water numbs your veins like anesthesia but you can feel every needle piercing your lungs because it's not a choice to hold your breath anymore. /or/ The trail of corpses are spelling doomed & blood is splattered over the broken pieces. Shit. Shit! She steals your fucking breath & air isn't an option as you drown in her. (2nd in the Hold Your Breath series) R&R for more.


{s.t.i.l.e.s} b|i|t|t|e|r

He just told her to go with you. He just told _Lydia_ to go with you. _Lydia_ who kissed you. _Lydia_ who you've loved for . . . how long now? You don't know.

It doesn't matter. _(Yes it does.)_

_(Strong connection . . . someone who can bring you back . . . someone you love.)_

He didn't have to say it.

She's your god damn anti drug & you don't freaking want to be dragged into rehab no matter how much white hot agony burns away at you every time your fingertips brush her soft skin or your heart stops because she looked at you with those analyzing green eyes or you trip over your words trying to explain how she makes you feel.

But does she love you?

Wait. You already know the answer to that.

No.

She doesn't love you back. Not even a little _motherfucking_ bit!

_Unrequited._

When did your skin get so tight around your ribcage? When did your heart start tearing apart the bone structure? _(Get out, get out, get out.)_ Oh, that's right.

The moment he said that.

Your feel your pale flesh tightening _(so constricting.)_ It's cold. _God,_ why is it cold? You aren't submersed in ice yet. It burns . . . it burns, it burns, it _fucking_ burns! Isn't it cold!? Damn it, damn it, _damn it! _It's freezing but your flesh _burns_ & _oh God,_ is the blood even pumping anymore?

It has to be, you can feel your heart hammering away at your ribcage _(thump, thump, thump.)_ Or are you just hallow now? Is your heart just thumping out an empty, _hallow_ rhythm? Are you just flesh & bones & so, so _fucking_ human? Is it a bloodless shell of you?

_(If you cut me, I bleed.)_

She cut you. She fucking tore you wide open with a damn scythe!

_(Part of you wonders if she's an angel about to break you or a devil trying to kill you.)_

If so, you wish it didn't hurt so_ damn_ much to think about her. _(Rip, rip, she doesn't love you, crack, crack, she never will . . .) _It's an endless cycle of love & pain so tightly welded together you don't know where one ends & the other begins. You've been broken down to nothing but love & agony & sarcasm, your _fucking _sarcasm._  
_

This isn't even _you_ anymore. This isn't _her_ anymore. _None of you_ are who you were anymore. Who were any of you in the first place? Were you better off?

Who _fucking_ knows anymore.

But you & Lydia . . . you two have changed the most. Haven't you? No fangs or claws or gleaming eyes. No expertise of weaponry. No. You two . . . you're just fractured fragments of who you used to be. And maybe you need each other, maybe all those scattered shards can be forced together to finish this damn puzzle. Maybe they'll fit together oh so _fucking_ perfectly. Like something out of a movie. Maybe it's not just you two, maybe you all need to finish the puzzle. All the assorted pieces could fit together perfectly, couldn't they?

Or they couldn't.

Maybe the trail of corpses & the pools of everyone's blood have grown too much. Maybe you've lost too many pieces to the puzzle & you can't forge more.

You don't know.

_(Will you ever?)_

Tick, tock, tick, tock . . . time is running out.

Time is already out.

They could be dead right now.

You don't know.

You're always seven steps behind anyways. _(Are you sure it's not 12 steps?)_ Cora was right. _Cora was right._ You _are_ just some stupid teenagers who find the bodies. Nothing more. Nothing less. How could you be less?

Some part of you _hopes_ you do die. She can't pull you back. Because she doesn't love you.

You ease yourself into the metallic tub, electricity jolting through you at the touch of the icy substance. The pain won't dull - you think it could kill you. You pray to God it will.

But then her fingers wrap around your shoulders & they're trembling & warm & her palms mold around you so easily & where did the pain go? You can hear her breaths; shaky & shallow.

She still doesn't love you.

So much so that she doesn't think she'll pull you back.

_Love._

That damn word echoes in the bated silence as the warm pressure around you lifts.

She doesn't love you.

You don't want her to pull you back because that will hurt so much more than breath filling your lungs & her arms wrapping around you because she was scared you were dead, really dead, for a second.

And that's why, before she pushes down, you hold your breath.

_(But you _know_ she'll bring you back.)_

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